The Rubáiyát of Háfiz

/

?X5-

GIFT OF
Mrs. I. M. Aiken

yjm^rio

Ube XKHls&om of tbe Bast Series

Edited by

L. CRANMER-BYNG

Dr. S. A. KAPADIA

THE RUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ

First Edition . • . . October, 1910
ReJ>rinted . » ♦ • . Julv, 19 12

WISDOM OF THE EAST

THE RUBA'IYAT
OF HAFIZ

TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION

BY SYED ABDUL MAJID, LL.D.

RENDERED INTO ENGLISH iVERSE

BY L. CRANMER-BYNG

** By cup is meant the wine of eternity,
And by this wine we mean self-annihilation."

Saki-nama of Hafi2,

NEW YORK

E. P. BUTTON AND COMPANY
191S

Printed by Sazell, WaUo,^ ^ Viney, U., Imulon an^ Aymury, Bnglana.

CONTENTS

Introduction 7

RuBA'iYi(T OF HAriz 39

Explanatory Notes to Ruba'iyXt , . 57

Appendix to Introduction . . p 69

EDITORIAL NOTE

The object of the Editors of this series is a very
definite one. They desire above all things that,
in their humble way, these books shall be the
ambassadors of good-will and understanding
between East and West — the old world of
Thought and the new of Action. In this en-
deavourj and in their own sphere, they are but
followers of the highest example in the land.
They are confident that a deeper knowledge of
the great ideals and lofty philosophy of Oriental
thought may help to a revival of that true spirit
of Charity which neither despises nor fears the
nation of another creed and colour.

L. CEANMER-BYNG.
S. A. KAPADIA.

nobthbrook society,
21 Cromwell Road,
Kensington, S.VV.

THE RUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ

INTRODUCTION

Life of Hafiz

KhwAja Shamsuddin Mohammad, better known
by his takhaUus {nom-de-plume) Hafiz, the most
national and the most popular of the Persian
poets, was born in Shiraz in the early part of the
fourteenth century. The exact date of his birth
has been a fruitful source of discussion among
his biographers and is still a matter of doubt.
Little is known of his family beyond this, that it
was good. Like many men of genius, both in
Europe and Asia, he did not claim a wealthy
parentage. He was educated in the common
school of poverty, and went through the same
discipline as other men of genius. In his youth
he became a disciple of Sheikli Mohammad Attar,
a learned sufiistic teacher in Shiraz. Unlike
other mystics of the time. Attar did not give him-
self completely up to a life of asceticism. He

8 INTRODUCTION

had truly grasped the philosophy of life by
neglecting neither the body nor the mind. The
physical world and the world of intellect were
of equal importance to him. His disciple, the
youthful Hafiz, was not slow to learn this useful
lesson, which enabled him to steer through many
difficulties. Wise and wholesome as the teaching
was, it did not fail to bring the wrath of other
Sufis down upon them. Some of these Sufis
clothed themselves in blue garments in imitation
of the colour of the sky, while, like the sky, they
claimed to possess within themselves heavenly
desires. Like Omar, Hafiz found it difficult to
keep silent on what appeared to him only a
cloak of hypocrisy. Referring to them in one
of his poems, he says : " I am the servant of all
who scatter dregs of the cup and are clothed in
one colour [i.e, in sincerity], but not of those
whose bodies are clad in blue while black is the
colour of their hearts."

Hafiz never submitted to any strict monastic
rule, and when he assumed the dervish habit he
took care to temper his orthodoxy with the free
doctrines learnt from his teacher.

About four miles from Shiraz there is a place
called Pir-e-Sabz, i.e. Green Pir, situated on a hill
called Baba Kohi. It was said that if any one
passed forty nights in that place without sleep
he would achieve the gift of composing poems.
Hafiz determined to go through the discipline.

LIFE OF HAFIZ 9

He used to pass nights there, while at daytime
he used to take rest. About the same time he
fell violently in love with a damsel named Shakh-e-
Nabat (Branch of Candy), who paid little heed
to the suit of Hafiz ; but on the fortieth day
she called him in and said that she preferred a
man of genius to a prince. Like the enchantress
in the Isle of Bliss, she would have kept him
from completing the course ; but Hafiz remem-
bered his vow and returned to Pir-e-Sabz. At
the dawn of the day he fell into a trance, wherein
he saw Khwaja Khizar, the most learned of the
Prophets, revealing himself to him. He blessed
him with the gift of eloquence and poetry. On
recovering his consciousness he greeted his
beloved with enchanting eloquence and verses.
Thus, it is said, Hafiz became a poet.

The great poetical gifts of Hafiz were revealed
by an accident, which so often accounts for the
origin of wonderful things in this world. His
uncle, named Sadi, who used to dabble in poetry,
had found his power to compose beyond the
first verse of a poem unavailing, and had given
it up in despair. While he was away Hafiz not
only completed the verse, but afterwards com-
pleted the whole poem. As uncles proverbially
do, he grew jealous of the young poet and cursed
him and his works. It is still believed that the
curse hangs over his Diwdn, and that he who
makes a special study of that beautiful collection

10 INTRODUCTION

of poems is bound to become afflicted in reason.
It is true enough ; for the poems are so fine that
one cannot help having his senses charmed away
while studying them.

There are various periods in the life of Hafiz
showing how he passed his days under the
patronage of various people. His first patron
was Shah Ishak, Governor of Shiraz ; but he
was taken prisoner by Mobarezuddin Mohammad
Mozaffar and executed outside the Persepolis.
This happened in 1357. Mozaffar suffered for
his wicked deed at the hands of his own son,
Shah Shuja, who caused his eyes to be put out.
He extended his patronage to Hafiz ; but, being
only a minor poet, was very jealous of his greater
rival. He lost no opportunity of criticising Hafiz
and his poems. On one occasion, defeated in the
trial of wits, he said to Hafiz, " In one and
the same you write of wine, of Stifiism, and of
the objects of your affections. Now this is con-
trary to the practice of the eloquent."

Hafiz, in reply, is reported to have said, " That
which your majesty has deigned to speak is the
essence of the truth ; yet the poems of Hafiz
enjoy a wide celebrity, whereas those of some
other writers have not passed beyond the gates
of Shiraz." Beyond such occasional difference
in literary matters. Shah Shuja treated the poet
well — a fact which Hafiz fully appreciated.
"Since the time," said Hafiz, "that the wine-

LIFE OF HAFIZ 11

cup received honour from Shah Shuja, Fortune
has put the goblet of joy into the hands of all
wine-drinkers."

Again, in praise of the Shah, he said, " May
the ball of the heavens be for ever in the crook of
thy polo-stick, and the whole world be a playing-
ground unto thee. The fame of thy goodness
has attained to the four quarters of the earth ;
may it be for all time a guardian unto thee ! "

In order to draw the ire of the theologians of
Shiraz, the Shah accused Hafiz of having written
lines which occur in Ghazal, No. 528 (last two lines),
expressing that the faith of Hafiz was unorthodox.
Fortunately for the poet, he came to know of it
before they sat in judgment over his lines and his
fate. He at once added a line putting it into the
mouth of a Christian, there being no harm in a
Christian calling in question the faith of Hafiz.
The decision was a foregone conclusion. Hafiz
was acquitted and the Shah censured for his
groundless accusation.

Kawamuddin (d. 1363), the vizier, was his
patron too. He founded a college for Hafiz in
Shiraz. Hafiz there gave lectures on the Quoran
and read out his own verses. Riza Kuli says that
he wrote a valuable commentary on the Quoran.
His fame as a teacher spread far and wide and
drew hosts of seekers after knowledge from all
parts of the world to Shiraz.

Hafiz seems to have entertained a very high

12 INTRODUCTION

appreciation of the liberality of the vizier. It
is apparent from Kitd (No. 581), where he asks
the chamberlain to remind him of the allowance
due to the poet, or from Kitd (No. 605), where
he mourns his loss and practically says that
liberality has come to an end after him. Again,
in Ghazal (No. 412) he speaks of him in the
highest terms of praise. He reserves to himself
the gift of sweet song and eloquence and extends
to the vizier the gift of generosity, spreading,
like the lights over all the world.

Hafiz was induced to pay a visit to Shah
Yehya of Yezd ; but was unfortunately treated
with coldness. In Ohazal (No. 477) he says :
" Shah Hormuz did me many acts of kindness
without seeing me and without myself praising
him, while the Shah of Yezd saw me — and I
sang his praises — and gave me nothing. O
Hafiz ! Do not be put out, as such are the ways
of kings." It was such treatment which made
him home-sick and made him exclaim : " Why
should I not return to mine own home ? Why
should I not lay my dust in the street of mine
own beloved ? My bosom cannot endure the
sorrows of exile ; let me return to mine own
city, let me be master of my heart's desire."

Sultan Owais of Bagdad (d. 1374) seems at
first to have extended kindness to the poet, but
to have cooled down afterwards. The lines of
Ghazal (No. 204) bear this out, and Hafiz re-

LIFE OF HAFIZ 13

proachfully says that the fault does not lie at
his door.

Quite in contrast with the behaviour of Sultan
Owais stands that of Sultan Alimed-i-Ilkhani
(d. 1410) of Bagdad. He made liberal offers to the
poet, only to be refused. Hafiz, however, speaks
very highly of him in Ghazal (No. 497), and calls
him the " Khan, son of Khan," " Emperor of
imperial descent," " the soul of the world," " as
liberal as a Khakan and as energetic as Changiz."

The fame of Hafiz spread even to the heart
of the distant kingdoms of Bengal and the
Deccan. About the year 1369 he was invited by
Ghyasuddin Purbi, King of Bengal. No induce-
ment was strong enough for Hafiz to make him
leave Shiraz, with its charming surroundings and
enchanting society. He wrote an apology for
not being able to attend the court of Bengal in
Ghazal (No. 158), and was handsomely rewarded.

Having heard of the esteem in which he was
regarded at the court of Sultan Mohammad Shah
Bahmani, King of the Deccan,^ Hafiz desired to
pay a visit to it ; but was unable to defray the
expenses of travelling. This reached the ears
of Mir FazluUah Anjoo, the vizier of the Sultan,
who at once sent him the necessary amount.
Having paid part of it to his creditors and his
relations, he proceeded as far as Lahur. Highway
robbery was very frequent in those days, and so
^ Farishta, the historian, narrates this.

14 INTRODUCTION

the poet deemed it more prudent to lend the
remainder to a friend. Thus becoming once
more penniless, he returned to Hurmuz with two
Persian merchants. There he embarked on the
ship sent by the Sultan to convey him to India ;
but a storm arose. The sight of a boundless sea
frightened him out of his wits. His heart sank,
and the next moment found him on the shore
singing the praises of God and of the beauties of
Shiraz. To the kind vizier he wrote the following
lines, which I take from the admirable translation
of Colonel Clarke :

To pass life a single moment in grief, a world altogether

is not worth.
For wine, sell our rugged religious garment ; for more

than this it is not worth.
At first, in hope of profit, easy appeared the toil of the

sea ;
A mistake I made ; for a hundred jewels this great deluge

(ocean) is not worth
The pomp of the imperial crown — whose grandeur is fear

of life ;
Is vainly a heart-alluring crown ; but the abandoning of

one's life is not worth.

Time passes on until we come to the year 1392,
whenTimur (1336-1405), fresh from his victories
in Fars and against Shah Mansur of Irak, ordered
Hafiz to be brought before him. In Ghazal (No. 8),
the poet says that if his beloved would captivate
his heart, he would give away Samarcand and

LIFE OF HAFIZ 15

Bokhara for her black mole. Having heard
this, Timur, who did not appreciate this liberality
with the place of his birth, called for an answer
from the poet. Hafiz was frightened, but his
wit saved him. He said :

" O Sultan of the world ! Had it not been
for this way of giving away, I would not have
fallen to this ! "

Timur felt flattered, and rewarded the poet.

Turning to the home-life of Hafiz, we find him
married and father of a son. He was passionately
attached to his wife, and worshipped his son.
He survived them both and lamented their loss
in several exquisite poems.

One can get an idea of the attachment Hafiz
bore to his wife from the poem written when, in
a moment of displeasure, she left for her father's
place, or the one written to bewail her death.
The reader will be able to judge from the following
extracts how fine the originals are :

O holy beloved ! Who will unveil thee ?

And O Bird of Paradise ! Who will give com and water
to thee ?

Sleep has departed from my eye, in this liver-consuming
thought,

That who has embraced thee, in what place and dwelling
hast slept thou ?

Suddenly thou departed from the embrace of me, heart-
scorched.

Alas ! what place has received the luxury of thy sleep ?

Thou didst not hear the plaint and the wail that I made.

16 INTRODUCTION

It is evident, 0 idol ! that thy place is high (t.e. too high

for my voice to reach thee).
Thou dost not ask the beggar (i.e. me), and I am afraid that
The thought of forgiveness and the desire of merit (in

consequence) are not in thee.
O palace, heart-kindling ! The resting-place for affection

that thou art !
O God ! the calamity of time may not ruin it !
Beware ! in this desert the fountain-head is far away,
So that the ghoul of the desert may not deceive thee with

mirage (or false images).
The arrow which thou shot with thy glance, missed.
What now will thy good judgment think ?
O heart ! on what principle wilt thou travel on the path

of old age
(If) all at once the time of thy youth is spent in a wrong

way ?
That intoxicated eye struck the path to the heart of

lovers ;
It is manifest from this way that thy wine is intoxicated.
Hafiz is not the kind of slave who will fly from his master.
Be kind, and come back, for I am consumed with thy wrath.

This was written to his wife. Her heart was
touched ; she thought better of her decision and
returned, to his great delight.

The few lines of the other poem find him
bewailing the loss of the one whose temporary
absence made his heart ache.

That beloved on account of whom my house the abode of

Pari (fairy) was.
From head to foot like a Pari, free from defect was.
My heart said, I will sojourn in this city which is perfumed

by her scent.

LIFE OF HAFIZ 17

(I), helpless, did not know that my beloved bent upon

travelling was.
Not only from the mystery of my heart the curtain fell,
When the habit of the sky (time) to tear (the) curtain was.
Acceptable to the wise that moon of mine, to whom
With the beauty of manner the habit of uplifting with a

mere glance was.
From my grasp the malignant star put her out,
Alas ! what can I do ? This the calamity of the moon's

revolution was.
0 heart ! Find an excuse, as you are a beggar and to her.
In the kingdom of beauty, the head crowned was.
Pleasant was the bank of water and the rose and the

verdure, but
Alas ! that moving treasure (beloved) a traveller was.
The nightingale (lover) ^vill kill itself out of anger when

to the rose (beloved)
With the morning breeze at the dawn splendour was.
Happy was that time which was spent with the beloved.
The rest all fruitless, lacking knowledge was.
Every treasure of bliss that God gave to Hafiz
On account of the night-prayer and the morning suppli-
cation was.

He mourns the loss of his son in several places,
out of which I give the translation of Kitd (No.
606), and one line from Ghazal (No. 117).

It is the season of spring, and the rose and the tulip and

the narcissus,
Come out of the earth, why in earth art thou ?
Like the spring cloud I pass on. I weep bitter tears
Over thj'^ dust to such an extent (in hopes) that thou wilt

oome out of the earth.

KUd, 606.

2

18 INTRODUCTION

The ease of the eye of mine, that fruit of my heart, ever

be his memory !
That went himself an easy journey and made my journey

(through life) hard.

Ghazcd, 117.

Hafiz died towards the end of the fourteenth
century. The exact date of his demise cannot
be ascertained. According to the slab on his
tomb it happened in 1388 ; but according to
other evidences it is put down to have happened
in 1389, 1391, or 1394.

He rests in the garden of Mosalla, about two
miles north-east of Shiraz on the bank of the
river Ruknabad, of which he sang praises in
Ohazal (No. 8). Like the historic mulberry-tree in
Christ College, Cambridge, planted by Milton, or
the tree planted by Bacon in Gray's Inn, there
was a famous cypress-tree planted by Hafiz which
*' cast its shadow o'er the dust of his desire."

In 1452 Sultan Abul Kasim Baber took Shiraz.
His vizier, Moulama Mohammad Muammai, a
great admirer of Hafiz, erected a monument to
adorn the site, called Hafiziana, and to shelter
the grave of Hafiz. About the year 1811 Vakil
Kasim Khan Zand placed over the tomb a slab
of alabaster. On the face of the slab is inscribed :

O Thou

Who endurest,

although

all things pass away I

LIFE OF HAFIZ 19

Below are inscribed the lines of Ghazal (No. 439).
It may not be out of place to give their render-
ings.

Where is the tidings of union with Thee, that with my

soul I may rise ?
Bird of righteousness am I, and from the snare of the

world I rise
In love for Thee who calleth me, Thy slave.
From the mastery of existence and dwelling I rise.
0 God ! out of the cloud of guidance send a shower
Before (the time) when like dust from amidst (things) I rise.
On my grave without wine and minstrel do not sit,
So that with Thy perfume from the grave, dancing, I rise.
Although I am old, hold me close to Thy bosom for a night.
So that in the morning from Thy embrace yoimg I rise.
Get up and show your stature, O idol ! with graceful

movement,
So that, like Hafiz, from the desire of life and the world I

Hafiz as a Poet

There are two aspects in which we must regard
Hafiz — as a poet and as a philosopher. In the
former capacity he was undoubtedly of the
first rank. FitzGerald, speaking of him, says :
*' Hafiz is the most Persian of the Persians. He
is the best representative of their character,
whether his Saki and wine be real or mystical.
Their (other Persian poets') religion and philo-
sophy is soon seen through, and always seems to
me cuckooed over like a borrowed thing which

20 INTRODUCTION

people once having got, do not know how to
parade enough. To be sure, their roses and
nightingales are repeated often enough. But
Hafiz and old Omar KJiayyam ring like true
metal."

Again, Dawlat Shah says : " Hafiz, the king
of the learned ones and the cream of the wise
ones, was the wonder of the time. His speech
is such that it cometh not into the creating power
of man. Verily, it hath the desire for the Hidden,
and the taste of the order of fakr, and they call
him Lisan-ul-ghaib (Tongue of the Hidden)."

Sudi, the Bosnian, who wrote a great commen-
tary on Hafiz 's works towards the seventeenth
century, was simply carried away by the enchant-
ing beauty of Hafiz's verses. He exclaimed that
they were divine, and " derived their innate
grace from having been bathed in the water of
life, and that in beauty they equalled the dark-
eyed Houris of Paradise."

He is original throughout and acknowledges
no authority but nature. '* He scorns to use any
art but art to conceal art." If there are any
defects, they are his own ; if there are beauties,
he himself is the painter. So rare a genius few
countries have ever produced.

Rich in fancy, powerful in imagination are
his verses. They are original and full of grandeur,
glowing and without restraint, gay and grave.
They speak of the divine emotion of love and of

HAFIZ AS A POET 21

the pleasure derived from celestial or terrestrial
wine. He draws beautiful pictures of his unre-
quited love, and describes in glowing terms the
beauties of flowers and the sweet melodies of
singing birds during the spring. Beauty in every
form does not escape his masterly touch. He
deals with the world's vanities, instability of life,
the evanescence of joys, and sings the praises of
the Creator and those of the prophet Mohammad.
Charity uncircumscribed by any limit, and a
spirit of toleration permeate his writings. Liberty
of conscience receives full recognition, while fre-
quent sarcastic remarks upon the so-called re-
ligious men are met with.

His style is flawless — concise but expressive,
dazzlingly bright and finished. Not a single
word is superfluous ; every word has its own
place, the loss of which is the loss of a beauty.
It is unaffected and clear. There is no straining of
the natural mirth, or loss of harmony in his
sonorous cadences.

The powerful eloquence, the music of his
songs, the delicate rhythms, the beat of the
refrain, and the captivating imagery, always
enthrall the readers of his poems. The spirit of
youth and love and joy, together with a nobler
humanity which cries out across the ages, char-
acterise them. When he says, " My beloved is
gone, and I had not even bidden him farewell ! "
the words are as touching now as they wer^

22 INTRODUCTION

several centuries ago. Equally simple and
pathetic is his mourning for his son, " He him-
self went an easy way, but made mine hard."
And for his wife : " Then said my heart, I will
sojourn myself in this city which is perfumed by
her scent ; her feet were bent upon a longer
journey, but I, helpless, knew it not." A more
passionate image of love you would not find
even in the sweet songs of the Swan of the Avon
than : '' Open my grave when I am dead, and
thou shalt see a cloud of smoke rising from out
of it ; then shalt thou know that the fire still
bums in my dead heart — yea, it has set my very
winding-sheet alight." Or : ''If the scent of
her hair were to blow across my dust when I
have been dead a hundred years, my mouldering
bones would rise and come dancing out of the
tomb." Speaking of love he says : "I have
estimated the influence of Reason upon Love,
and found that it is like that of a raindrop upon
the ocean, which makes one little mark upon the
water's face and disappears." These are im-
mortal utterances, " which time cannot dim or
rust," and truly interpret the language of the
heart.

The Diwdn, or the collection of poems by Hafiz,
deserves a mention. Sudi, the great Turkish
editor of Hafiz, says that during his lifetime
Hafiz was too busy teaching and composing
philosophical treatises to collect together his

HAFIZ AS A POET 28

poems ; that he used to recite them in the
college founded especially for him by Kawd-
muddin, expressing a wish that these pearls
might be strung together for the adornment
of his age. It was left for his pupil, Syed
Kasim-al-Anwar, to collect them together.
This makes up the famous Diwdn of Hafiz.

The language of the Diwdn, as understood by
the outward form, gave rise to the difficulty
whether it was orthodox enough to be read by
the public. The matter was referred to the
Sufi Abu Suoud, who decided in favour of the
Diwdn, But for his decision the beautiful collec-
tion would have remained confined to oblivion,
much to the loss of Persian literature. Practi-
cally giving it ecclesiastical imyrimatur he said
" that every one was at liberty to use his own
judgment in the manner of the meaning to be
assigned to the poems of Hafiz."

From one end of the world to the other the
Diwdn is well known, and its poems are repeated
and sung by all those who take any interest in
Persian literature. There are some admirable
translations of Hafiz.

There are also various commentaries on Hafiz,
but unfortunately there is none except that of
Sudi which exactly expresses his true meaning.
Each has its own peculiar charms, but all suffer
from the same attempt on the part of scholars
as characterised the philosophers of the Middle

24 INTRODUCTION

Ages, who endeavoured to read something
into religion which, instead of simplifying it,
made it more elaborate and difficult to under-
stand.

Yet another feature of the Diwdn deserves
mention. Like the Aeneid, the Diwdn is con-
sulted as a guide to future actions.

In the memoirs of Sher Khan Lodi it is related
that the enemies of Hafiz had gone so far as to
accuse him of heresy, and so there was a question
as to whether he should receive the Moslem rites
of burial. After some debate they consulted his
poems in haphazard manner, and found the
following verse, which settled all their doubts
respecting his faith. *' Do not keep back your
steps from saying funeral prayers (for the soul) of
Hafiz ; for, although he is immersed in sin, he is
going to heaven." It is also said that several
men of action were in the habit of having re-
course to these Sortes Hafiziana on questions that
they could not solve. Aurungzeb, the great Mogul
Emperor, was one. Indeed Nadir Shah never
undertook an expedition without consulting it.
While meditating an expedition against Taurus,
says Mirza Mehdi Khan, he opened the Diwdn
at the following verses :

Irak and Fars thou hast conquered with thy sweet verses

0 Hafiz ;
Come ! (now) is the turn of Bagdad and (the appointed

Jiour) of Tabriz,

HAFIZ AS A PHILOSOPHER 25

How appropriate they were the succeeding
events showed !

HXfiz as a Philosopher

As a philosopher Hafiz was an Intuitionist.
Naturally enough, religion had two aspects for
him — intellectual and moral, each leading to
the higher and truer conception of the Supreme
Being. The intellectual part of religion by the
pursuance of design in the universe and by having
recourse to the various ontological and teleo-
logical arguments, apprehends the Supreme Being
as the Supreme Intellect. The moral part of
it is not so easy to grasp, and therefore has given
rise to much useless speculation. The Supreme
Being here is represented as the Supreme Con-
science, whom men can hold communion with
through their own conscience. As there are hier-
archies in the moral world, the constant communion
with the Supreme Conscience may lead to the
attainment of the highest hierarchy. This is, in
short, one part of the doctrine of Sufiism, so
much misunderstood in the West.

No doubt it has given rise to certain language
intelligible only in the light of the Cartesian
doctrine of Dualism propounded by the great
Sufi Alghazali long before Descartes — that is to
say, the existence of mind and matter with the
pineal gland — with the ei^ddition of Malebranche's

26 INTRODUCTION

doctrine of Occasionalism for Descartes' pineal
gland.*

There is yet another side to Sufiism. A Sufi
draws no distinction between himself and other
selves. The true good, for him, is the realisation
of self which pre-supposes the consideration of
others. He says : " God manifests Himself in us.
We are, in our very essential nature, the eternal
consciousness, reproduced under the limitation
of time and organism, but retaining the essential
character of being out of time as regards our
knowledge — as regards that in virtue of which
we are. The world, as a whole, only potentially
13. The potential contents of our consciousness
— knowledge — eternally exist as ideas which we
are labouring to attain unto." And as potential
contents are more and more attained to, we realise
that others are inseparable from us. Thus
the distinction between the pleasure of self
and the pleasure of not-self disappears. This
brings us face to face with the ethical doctrines
of Sidgwick and Green, and even offers a medium
of reconciliation between the materialistic con-
ception of the Cambridge philosopher and the
spiritualistic view of the Oxford thinker.

There has been a controversy over Hafiz's
being a Sufi. Those who take his verses in their
literal sense come to a very unfavourable con-
clusion about the poet ; but there is another
* See Appendix to Introduction, p. 69.

HAFIZ AS A PHILOSOPHER 27

side to the shield. Before entering into the
question whether Hafiz was a Sufi it will be
better to mention in brief what Sufiism is.
The word ' Sufi ' has been variously derived :

From which meana

Suf wool.

Sufi . . . . . . woollen.

Safd . . . . . . purity.

Safd a statue near Mecca.

It is difficult to decide among the various
derivations. Professor Browne ^ seems to think
that "it is quite certain " that it is derived from
the word suf, '* wool," which is confirmed by
the equivalent pashmina-pushy " wool- wearers,"
applied to these mystics in Persia, and regards
the derivation given by Jami in his Bahdristdn,
from Arabic safd, "purity," as fanciful. The
Sufis themselves regard it as derived from safd,
and ninety-nine out of every hundred spiritual
guides in the East adopt this derivation.

There are four theories as to the origin of
Sufiism. The first is that it represents the
" esoteric Islam." Jalaluddin Rumi favours this
idea and calls Ali the first Sufi. So do almost all
the Sufis one comes into contact with in the East.

The second theory * is that it represents a

* A Literary History of Persia, p. 417.

* Professor Browne's A Literary History of Persia, p. 41St

28 INTRODUCTION

reaction of the Aryan mind against Islam, a
Semitic religion. But Professor Browne has con-
clusively shown that neither the Indian nor the
Persian theory of reaction is tenable.

The third theory is that it was due to the
Neo-Platonist influence. The chief argument in
support of this theory ^ is that three great Sufis,
Maroof-ul-Karkhi, Abu Sulayman al-Darani, and
Dhu'1-Nun al-Misri, flourished during the period
of seventy-five years commencing in the year 786
and ending in 861 a.d. During this period, it
is asserted, many works were translated from
the Greek which must have influenced them as
well as others. But the term " Sufi " was already
in use a considerable time before the year 786,
and Stifiism had attained to a recognised place.
Hence the theory of Neo-Platonist influence
cannot be maintained.

The fourth theory, of independent origin, seems
reasonable in the light of all facts regarding
Stifiism. It has been supported by eminent
authorities.

It will be better to quote from Ibn IChaldun,
the great historian, who proves beyond doubt
that Stifiism was of indigenous growth to Islam.
Speaking of Stifiism in his Muqaddima (vol. iii.,
p. 467), he says :

" This is one of the religious sciences which

* Mr. A. R. Nicholson's Literary History of the Arabs,
p. 388,

HAFIZ AS A PHILOSOPHER 29

were born in Islam. The way of the Sufis was
regarded by the ancient Moslems and their
illustrious men — the Companions of the Prophet
(Al'Sahaba), the followers (Al-Tabiin), and the
generation which came after them — as the way
of truth and salvation. To be painstaking in
piety, to give up everything for the sake of
God, to avoid worldly shows and vanities, to
renounce pleasure, wealth, and power, which
are the general objects of human ambition, to
abandon society and to lead in seclusion a life
solely dedicated to the service of God — these
were the fundamental principles of Sufiism
which prevailed among the Companions and
the Moslems who existed immediately after
Mohammad. When, however, in the second
generation and afterwards worldly tastes be-
came widely spread, and men no longer shrank
from contamination, those who made piety their
aim were singled out by the title of Sufi or
Motasawwdf,'^

To attain to the sufiistic ends certain practices
have been prescribed. They consist of four
stages, and until the last stage is passed the
*' emancipated soul " cannot mix with the
"glorious essence," nor can it cast off the ** cor-
poreal veil." They are :

1. Shariyat — which consists in strict ob-
servance of the teachings of Islam.

2. TarikaL This means the following of

30 INTRODUCTION

a spiritual guide who teaches the "hidden
practices."

3. MdrefaL — This stage is reached when
the real nature of the teachings of Moham-
mad is grasped, leading to the effacement in
Mohammad. And,

4. Hakikat, — This is the last stage, and
consists in recognition of the divine essence
and merging thereunto.

There are various orders of Sufis. There were
two original orders, viz. (1) Haloolia, i.e. the in-
spired, believing as they did that God had entered
into them, and (2) Ittahddid, i.e. the unionists,
who took God to have joined with every en-
lightened being. They said that God is the
flame and the soul the charcoal. The soul, by
union with God, becomes God. From these two
are derived the following orders of Sufis :

(a) The Wasdlid, i.e. the joined to God.

(b) The Osh-Shdhid, i.e. the lovers of God.

(c) The Talhinid, i.e. the instructed.

(d) The Zdkid, i.e. the penetrated.

(e) The Wdhedid, i.e. the solitary.

Without further detaining the reader over the
details of Sufiism, however interesting the subject
may be, we should mention the evidence that
Hafiz was a Sufi. In the first place, Jami, the
great Sufi and poet, says concerning Hafiz that
"from his verses, he should judge him to be a
Sufi of eminence.'' He calls Hafiz '' Lisdn ul-

HAFIZ AS A PHILOSOPHER 31

ghaih " t.e. The Tongue of the Hidden, and
Tarjumdn ul-Israr, i.e. Interpreter of Mysteries.

In the next place, Dawlat Shah speaks of
Hafiz as a great Sufi and considers his verse as
possessing endless meanings in truth and divine
knowledge. Compared with his station among
the Sufis, his rank as a poet is much lower. He
was unequalled in his knowledge of the Quoran,
and remained unexcelled in the knowledge of
the " outward and the imvard." His religion
inspired him with pious thoughts, which bore
fruit in his love for the dervishes and Arifs.

Thirdly, there is the testimony of Charles
Stewart, who says :

" Hafiz was eminent for his purity ; passed
much of his time in solitude, devoting himself to
the service of God, and to reflecting on His divine
nature. By his countrymen he is classed among
the inspired and holy men ; and his works — held
as inferior only to the Quoran — are frequently
consulted by divines."

Lastly, the bulk of the Diwdn admits of a far
higher interpretation than any that could belong
to our mortal existence. It might have been
attributed to pure accident if a few of his poems
had borne that interpretation ; but the question
of accident is beyond consideration when the
bulk of the Diwdn can be so explained. It is
commonplace if taken literally ; subhme if
"truly interpreted. This shows a design and a

32 INTRODUCTION

certain state of mind. It can only be the
mind of a Sufi from which can emanate such
strains.

For this purpose 'Havern," etc., must mean
''place of worship"; ''wine," signifying love
of God ; " beloved," "God," or "Creator " ; and
the old man of the Magians and of the tavern, as
the "spiritual guide."

What doubt can there be, when Hafiz himself
says ?—

The meaning of this cup is the wine of eternity i
The meaning of this wine, we understand, is selflessness.

Saki-nama.

From my boyhood I had a liking for Hafiz,
and always entertained a desire to associate
my name with his. I had long contemplated
bringing out a complete translation of the
works of Hafiz ; but they would have been
too bulky. I have, therefore, adopted the sug-
gestion of my friends to bring out the works
in several volumes. The Eubd'iydt is the first
volume. I would consider my labours amply
rewarded if this little volume appeals to the
generous British Public, and supplies it with
something which would far remove it to a
world so unlike its own but in feeling and
thought.

A Ruba'i (pi. Ruba'iyat) consists of four

THE EUBA'IYAT IN ENGLISH VERSE 33

verses, the last verse being the most important,
complete in itself. Each Ruba'i stands by
itself and explains the philosophy of life in its
own way.

There are altogether seventy Ruba'iyat of
Hafiz ; but some of them are supposed to be
of doubtful origin and therefore have been left
out.

The task of versifying from my translation of
the Rubd'iydt has been undertaken by Mr. L.
Cranmer-Byng. He has endeavoured, as far as
possible, to keep to the sense in each Ruba'i.
Below I give the literal translation, as well as
the verse-rendering, of several Ruba'iyat in order
that the reader may see for himself how Mr.
Cranmer-Byng has accomplished his difficult
task.

Literal translation of Ruba'i 620 :

When the rosebud flagon-emptier becomes {i.e. bears the

semblance of flagon upside down),
Narcissus for love of wine goblet-holder becomes.
Happy is the heart of that person who, like a bubble,
In the desire of wine a wanderer (who carries his house,

i.e. all he possesses, on his shoulders) becomes.

This corresponds to No. 1 of the Rubd'iydt,
which runs as follows :

When rosebuds into chaHces unroll

For love of wine Narcissus bears the bowl.

34 INTRODUCTION

Ah ! happy he who learns the crimson lore,
And, wine's own Sufi, hberates his soul.

Although the last two lines do not quite ex-
press the outward meaning of the last two lines
of the Ruba'i, the inner meaning is the same.
The lines mean that the one who bids farewell to
his hearth and home, i,e, becomes a Sufi, is happy ;
and this idea is in eflEect expressed by the last
lines of the versification.

Again, take the Ruba'i No. 646 literally,
which, translated, runs :

Thine eye, of which the sorcery of Babil is the teacher,
O God ! that sorcery may not pass out of its (eye's)

memory !
And that ear which put an earring into the ears of beauty

(itself) (i.e, enslaved it),
Its earring may be from the pearl of Hafiz's poetry !

It corresponds to Ruba'i No. 15 :

Those eyes, that BabiFs sorcery hath taught.
Must all their sweet enchantment come to nought ?
And that small ear — Nay ! from the fadeless pearls
Of Hafiz's song her pendant shall be wrought.

It is evident that the qualifying adjective of
the ear as putting " an earring into the ear of
beauty itself," that is to say, beautiful, has been
expressed by the word '' small," the EngHsh
idea of a beautiful ear being its *'smallness."

THE RUBA'IYAT IN ENGLISH VERSE 35

Or take again, literally, Ruba'i No. 633 :

No story of the light (beauty) of Chegil can be told !

No tale of the burning heart (lover) can be told !

Then is sorrow in my little heart, and the reason is that

there is not
A friend to whom the sorrows of the heart can be told.

In the versification it stands as No. 28 :

Who can recall the rosebud of Chegil ?
The story of the burning heart reveal ?
My heart is desolate, since friends are none
To whom my tale of sorrows can appeaL

Or take again, the Ruba'i 638 :

Thine eye, from which sorcery and deceit rain,
Beware ! From it the sword of battle rains.
Very soon thou becamest tired of thy companions,
Alas ! From thine heart — stone rains from it.

Lit Trans,

This corresponds to No. 29 of the versification :

Your eyes, where lies and magic play their part,
From whose false dusk the swords of battle start.
How soon they weary of my constant sight !
Stones that were tears now strike me from your heart.

Or take the beautiful Ruba'i 634 :

The beauties of the world can be taken captive with go-
Their fruit can be happily tasted with gold.

36 INTRODUCTION

Look at Narcissus, which is crown -possessor of the world ;
How it too droops its head to gold (narcissus has a golden
cup over its flower). Lit* Trans,

This is versified in No. 32 :

For gold the beauties of the world are wed ;
Their charms upon the merchants' mat they spread.
Even that sultan of the worlds of spring,
The proud Narcissus, droops a golden head.

Or take, once more, the Ruba'i 617 :

Manliness from the plucker of the door of Khaibar ask,
And the secret of generosity from Khawja Kambar (All's

slave) ask.
If thirsty of the grace of God in reality, you Hafiz are,
The fountain-head of that (grace) from the cup-bearer of

Kausar (Ali) ask. Lit, Trans.

It is versified in No. 53 :

Ask strength of him who plucked at Khaibar's door ;
The gift of giving from his slave implore.
O Hafiz, if for grace of God thou yearn,
Ask of the fount for wine of Kowsar's store.

Or take, lastly, the Ruba'i 623 :

Sit with the friend and the cup of wine, ask
A kiss from the lips of that cypress rose-bodied, ask
If the wounded wishes to be cured of the wound.
Tell him from the lancet of a surgeon, ask.

LU, Trans.

A WORD OR TWO AS TO THE METRE 37
This corresponds to the versification, No. 57 :

Come, sit with love, and, while the wine-cup flows.
Enfold the cypress -form, the heart of rose !
O wounded lover, seeking to be whole.
Ask Haj jam's lancet of the cure it knows.

A Word or Two as to the Metre

In Persian there is only one prescribed metre
for all Ruba'iyats originally taken from the
Arabic. A great deal of difficulty was experi-
enced in fixing upon the metre for the versifica-
tion. FitzGerald has adopted the only metre
which is suitable for quatrains. In this he was
by no means original. Hammer and Bicknell
had tried the metre consisting of ten syllables
in each line before. As Connington has well
said, there is a degree of metrical conformity
between the measure of the original and that of
the translation, and though there is no perfect
coincidence in this respect, it at least suggests
it. Alexandrines would have been still better,
and they have been used by Bodenstedt and
other German translators of Omar's Ruhd'iydt ;
but, as Mr. E. H. Winfield has pointed out, the
English language does not lend itself to this
harmony. This adoption would have made the
lines rather heavy in English. Therefore they
have been forsaken for their rival.

38 INTRODUCTION

In conclusion, I desire to thank my friend,
Dr. S. A. Kapadia, joint editor of the ** Wisdom
of the East " Series, for several valuable hints
and suggestions, and various writers on Hafiz
whose works I have consulted.

ABDUL MAJID.

4, Harcouet Buildings,
Temple, E.G.

RUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ

When rosebuds into chalices unroll
For love of wine Narcissus bears the bowl.
Ah ! happy he who learns the crimson lore,
And, wine's own Sufi, liberates his soul.

2

Of that old wine some vanished Sultan grew
Give me, that I may paint life's scenes anew.
Oh make me heedless of the heedless world
That I may sing the world's desire to you.

Come, love and wine beside the river's brink ;
In every cup some shallow care we'll sink.
Life's span is but the rose's, ten dear days ;
Then chain the ten with laughter's golden link.

40 RUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ

0 lovers, you whose happy hands enlace,
For whom Time's wheel, forgotten, flies apace,
When my time cometh hail the endless round,
That other Aprils may recall my face.

Come thou, and bring me wine, the source of joy ;
Heed not the wiles that meaner foes employ.
Smooth is the speech of him who bids thee stay,
And sweet are words that sweeter lips decoy.

6

If, like us, you should fall into love's snare.
Wine, wine alone can free you from despair.
We are the world-consuming revellers ;
Sit not with us, lest none should speak you fair.

Youth is the tap that draws the wine most sweet.
Unhappy lover, drink and drown defeat !
Creation rocks to ruin in the end,
Apd ruined lords their ruined halls complete,

RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ 41

8

Take not your lips from the tankard's brimming

lip,
Lest fame and fortune in a moment slip.
In the world-cup are sweet and bitter blent ;
One from love's mouth, one from the tankard sip.

9

A woman's smile, a lute to rouse the morn,
A nook, a heart unbound, a flagon drawn.
And when the red wine dances through my veins
From Hatim ^ I'll not beg a barley-corn.

10

My moon, in whose grave beauty day grows dim,
A fairer disk than Kowsar's ^ rounded rim.
Hath cast all hearts into her dimple's well.
And, sealed with amber, bade them sink or swim.

11

As, one by one, the garments from her glide
Behold a moon that hath no peer beside.
O flesh so frail that her red heart imbues !
liike a red ruby stains the lucent tid^.

42 EXJBAIYAT OF HAFIZ

12

Around her waist my hand unchided stole :
This much I gained, yet still desired the whole.
My arm had circled round the citadel,
And, still unmastered, she defied control.

13

I said " Ah ! pretty mole of my delight ! "
She answered, " O thou fond and foolish wight !
No mole the mirror of my charm retains,
'Tis thy dark glance upon my beauty bright."

14.

Quoth I, '' Your lip ? " '' The fount of life ! "
she cried.

Quoth I, " Your mouth ? " *' 'Tis sugar, coral-
dyed ; "

Quoth I, " Your speech ? " " Ah, sweetly Hafiz
sang;

For each soft word some golden tongue is tied."

15

Those eyes that BabiPs * sorceries hath taught,
Must all their bright enchantments come to

nought ?
And that small ear — Nay ! from the fadeless

pearls
Of Hafiz' song her pendant shall be wrought.

RUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ 43

16

0 you, to whom the sun and moon have bowed
Upon your threshold's dust their foreheads proud,
Bid me not burn in expectation's fire !
Nor seat me in the shadow of the cloud I

17

Think not to scorn the fierceness of a sigh.

From that which kindles flame may flames draw
nigh.

Oh be not heedless of the tears of night,

Or the dawn's grey sighs that 'neath your case-
ment die.

18

My heart makes room for grief — for grief of you.
By this dear grief my wounds shall heal anew.
The more you heap your vengeance on my heart.
The more tormented, she shall prove more true.

19

To-night I'll sleep in blood for all my pain ;
Without the bed of rest I shall remain.
Sweet, an you doubt me, send your wraith

dreams
To watch the night upon my torment wane.

44 RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ

20

She told me, "I am yours to have and hold.
Take heart ! let care by patience be controlled."
Ah, what is heart ? Some greybeard doth reply :
" The clot of blood a thousand cares enfold."

21

She gave me first the loving-cup to bind ;
The cup of cruelty she then assigned
And when, with soul and body burned, I fell
Dust at her feet — she gave me to the wind.

22

I was a beggar, of her love bereft ; ^^

Salt rankles in the wound that parting left.
My heavy heart one day foretold the end ;
Then fell the sword, and our one life was cleft.

23

Sweet, you have moulded me to please the foe ;
I was like spring that now like autumn grow.
Once in your quiver still and straight I lay
Till passion, came and bent me like a bow,

RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ 45

24

Return ! my soul your wandering beauty seeks.

Return ! my heart her desolation speaks.

Oh, golden sunshine of your face reveal,

And burn the blinding tear-drops from my cheeks !

25

In crowds I see no image save thine own,
My ways are centred in thy street alone ;
And though thou reignest, and the world hath

sleep,
No kiss of slumber my tired lids have known.

26

Alone I weep more tears than candles shed —
Tears like the twinkling flagon's rosy red ;
And, like the wine-cup, since the heart is full,
When the sad harp bewails my tears are bled.

27

Ah, love, for kisses long withheld I die ;
Your absent lips have slain me with a sigh.
A ruthless pen writes " Finis " to my tale.
Return ! for, while I wait, again I die.

46 RUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ

28

Who can recall the rosebud of Chegil ? •
The story of the burning heart reveal ?
My heart is desolate, since friends are none
To whom my tale of sorrows can appeal.

29

Your eyes, where lies and magic play their part,
From whose false dusk the swords of battle start.
How soon they weary of my constant sight !
Stones that were tears now strike me from your
heart.

30

Each friend who spoke of constancy became
A foe, each lovely face a soiling flame.
They say, " The night is great with hidden things."
Since none beheld her, who hath shared her
shame ?

31

0 time of broken vows that none would mend !
The bitter foe was once a faithful friend.
So to the skirts of solitude I cling,
Lest friendship lure me to an evil end.

RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ 47

32

For gold the beauties of the world are wed ;
Their charms upon the merchants' mat they

spread.
Even that sultan of the worlds of spring,
The proud Narcissus, droops a golden head.

33

How shall this golden tyranny abide ?
This breaking of a people's heart and pride ?
There is a bloodstained sword in broken hearts ;
Whom the red steel doth follow woe betide !

34

When tyrants rule can gold redeem the earth ?
When sorrow haunts the home can joy have

birth ?
Not all the promised aeons of delight
These seven dull days of mortal care are worth.

35

0 son, withdraw your heart from faithless Time.*
Let Faith, her husband, be your friend sublime.
Be heartless, ere like me you vainly seek
To hold her mocking beauty with a rhyme.

48 RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ

36

Oh would that Fortune met me by the way,
That changing Time would grant me slow delay,
And when the reins fell from the hands of youth
That Age might prove the stirrup for my stay.

37

In vain pursuits the random years have flown ;
What gain is mine from summers overthrown ?
The friends of yore are numbered with my foes ;
The lilies fall, the roses all are blown.

38

Each day some greater grief my heart hath borne ;
Mine eyes are pierced by separation's thorn ;
And Destiny to all my plaint replies,
"Another load awaits another morn."

39

Yet what avails to foam with grief like wine ?
We may not cope with sorrows line on line.
Those young fresh lips divorce not from the cup :
Lips that are young make every draught divine.

KUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ 49

40

Seek not to compass vengeance for thy wrong,
But draw the sparkhng wine with mirth and song.
Take wit and wisdom to thy tent alone ;
Fools to the company of fools belong.

41

Better the whole world in a mortar bray,
Dip in the heart's blood as it ebbs away,
Or drag a hundred years of chains and gloom,
Than for one moment with a fool delay.

42

Cease, cease to sorrow for a world of sin ;
Forsake the world and all thou hast therein.
Go ! follow Love where wine-cups fire the gloom,
Where the red vintage swells the tawny skin.

43

A girl whose figure shamed the cypress tall
Let her bright beauty on a mirror fall.
I laid a kerchief at her feet. She smiled,
''What happy thought of union holds you thrall ? '

4

50 RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ

44

Methinks I hear joy beating with his wings ;
The perfume of passionate roses round me clings.
The wind has caught a story from her mouth,
Oh rare and wondrous is the tale he brings !

45

Return ! return ! thou many- voiced gale !
Warm with my burning, her young heart assail ;
Lest she be angered, sing to her alone ;
Yet in the midst of maidens tell my tale.

46

Whence did the tangles-^of your hair arise ?
And the dreams that haunt the shadows of your

eyes ?
Since none have shaken petals on your path
Oh whence the attar that around you lies ?

47

The jasmine blooms in the shadow of your hair !
Lips beyond price, since Aden's pearls lie there,
Like you, the soul is ever wine-inspired ;
The wine's bright soul shines through a form as
fair.

KUBA'IYAT OF HAFIZ 51

48

Roselit, my tears like her twin roses show.

My heart's red blood through aching eyes doth

flow
She asked me, seeking for a fair reply :
" Why do thine eyes like lakes in twilight glow ? "

49

0 great of soul ! How gladly would I give
All that I am to thee by whom I live !
If thou wouldst know the bitterness of hell,
Pour friendship's water through an empty sieve.

50

Sweet lips soon break the promise they proclaim
God's lovers never keep them from the flame :
If the beloved yield to your desire,
Yielding, she writes the record of your fame.

51

I clung to the beloved's locks with tears ;
I said, " Be thou physician of my fears ? "
She answered : " Take me ! let my tresses go !
Cling light to pleasure, not to length of years !

52 RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ

52

" 'Twere folly to thyself to be more kind,
Or from Creation call thyself to mind.
Learn wisdom from the pupil of the eye
That looks on all men yet to self is blind.

53

" Ask strength of him who plucked at KLhaibar's •

door ;
The gift of giving from his slave implore.
O Hafiz, if for grace of God thou yearn^
Ask of the fount for wine of Kowsar's store ;

54

** Then, long as stands the heavenly decree.
The wind shall tell the youngest rose of thee :
The cup that lights the hand of Taktamun ^
Drink, and thou shalt be love's immortally.

55

" Around Life's keep the rodent waters roar ;
The measure of our years is brimming o'er.
Soon, soon, O friend, the janitor of Time
Shall cast Life's chattels through the broken door,

RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ 53

56

*' We hope for all things from the sky's caress,
Yet tremble as the leaf when days grow less.
You said no colour beyond black abides ;
Then why the snows upon the raven tress ?

57

Come, sit with love, and, while the wine-cup flows
Enfold the cjrpress-form, the heart of rose !
O wounded lover, seeking to be whole.
Ask Hajjam's * lancet of the cure it knows.'*

68

That night we wrought love's miracJe again :
For one brief gloom one soul was born of twain.
Now death shall weary at the springs of youth
By singing waters that he sealed in vain.

59

The Sultan's friend, known by the least to fame,
Giver of golden words that all acclaim.
Who goes from Shiraz unto Samarcand
Tha.t Hadji IJafiz thrills not with his name ?

54 RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ

60

O thou great Almoner of human need,
Who solvest all, dispensing blame and meed,
Why should I bare my secret heart to thee,
Since all my hidden secrets thou canst read ?

61

The rosebud hides herself for shame of Thee !
Nor drowsed Narcissus dare to look on Thee :
How can the rose her sovereignty proclaim ?
Her light is of the moon, the moon 's from Thee.

^ 62

Blame not my tears for the secret they confessed ;
Deal gently with a heart that cannot rest !
O Sufi ! since thou knowest his desire,
Scorn not the wanderer for the lifelong quest !

63

One that should dwell in squalor for a space
Of former pride will not retain a trace ;
But some poor stranger in a foreign land
Sighs and remembers still his native placet

RUBAIYAT OF HAFIZ 55

64

The way to Thee lies over grief and pain :
The soul gropes on, the darkness doth remain.
We only look upon the perfect face
When the lamp failing, shows the quest is vain.

65

Till the desire of love be gratified,
Till the body's kingdom without king abide,
My hope is ever of the Court of God,
That all the gates of joy be open wide

EXPLANATORY NOTES (RUBA'IYAT)

1 Hdtim was the most generous man of his time. His
name is proverbial for generosity in the East and has been
so used by many poets.

2 Kowsar is a spring in Paradise. Its water is as white
as milk and as sweet as honey. It is mentioned in the
Quoran.

^ At the time of David the angels, getting jealous of
favours shown to mankind by God, complained of the wicked-
ness of man.

To the angels God said :

*' In mankind, passion and lust are the cause of sin. If
these possessed you — as they do — you would also do."

The angel replied :

** This would never be."

God selected two angels of the highest order named Harut
and Marut, and gave them the same feelings as characterised
man. They were let down at Babylon. The greatest name
of God (Isme-Azam) was taught to them, by mention of
which they could go up whenever they pleased.

There was a beautiful woman, named Zohra, who sought
after the Isme-Azam, the greatest name of God, and in order
to know it she used to pay a visit to every saint who made
his appearance in Babylon. Having heard of these angels
as saints, she paid a visit to them. As ill luck will have it,
they fell in love with her, went to her house, drank wine,
worshipped her idol, slew her husband, and, worst of all,
taught her Isme-Azam, the greatest name of God, Zohrg,

07

58 EXPLANATORY NOTES (RUBAIYAT)

repeated the greatest name of God and at once ascended to
heaven, and she is now regarded as Venus. The angels
were condemned, confined in a well, chained upside down, and
now they pass their time in teaching sorcery. It is for this
reason that the well of Babil is noted for its sorcery.

^ GhegiL (1) A district in Tartary famous for the beauty
of its inhabitants ; or, (2) a fire temple wherein the att-endants
held " lamps of Chegil.'*

" Unlike English poets Hafiz personifies Time as feminine
and Faith as masculine.

^ Khaibar was a stronghold of the Jews near Medina.
In 630 Mohammad took the place, the gates being removed
by Ali, the fourth Caliph, and used as shields.

^ Taktamun was the cup-bearer of Shah Shuja.

* Hajjdm means a surgeon.

APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION

The human brain has everything dupKcate
excepting the pineal gland. This led Descartes
to think that the interchange of energies between
mind and matter, two heterogeneous entities,
was possible through it.

Malebranche did away with the idea of pineal
gland and in its place added that God, on every
occasion when an interchange of energies between
these two entities was required, intervened.
This is called the doctrine of Occasionalism.
When the Sufi says that nothing is possible with-
out God this is the underlying philosophical
principle. Al-Ghazali had expressed the pre-
ceding views long before they were thought out
in Europe.

Unlike Locke, who reduces everything to
matter, Berkeley reduces everything to ideas.
There are schools of Sufis who adopt the views
which coincide with the doctrines of Locke and
of Berkeley. They are called Ahl-ul-Mojassaim
and Ahl-ul Moshabhia respectively.

The theory of Monads of Leibnit?^ is that

60 APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION

everything is like a mirror and reflects the rest
of the world in the degree of its development.
The Sufis adopt this notion when they claim the
knowledge of the whole world at one glance,
and the knowledge of the individual Sufi is of the
same stage as he has attained to in the scale of
Sufiism.

Kant says that it is only perceptions which are
supplied by the various organs of the senses ; but
the form which is the outcome of the combination
of all these various perceptions is supplied by the
mind. The Sufi adopts this view when he says
that everything is pure self ; that is to saj^ every
form which one perceives is caused by the mind
and therefore from self.

Pxinttd by JfazeU, Watson <fc Fingy, l;d., London and Aylfibury^

n/6-

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